Weight of the World
by Ambiguous Rose
Summary: This was her chance to save everyone... A chance to get them all back. Clary risks everything to save everyone that the war against her father killed. A time travel story.
1. Prologue: Good Times Gone

_A/N: This story has been in the works for a while; I've never been really sure how to write it right. I am absolutely in love with this series. It is incredible and I've gotten about three or four of my friends hooked on it too. I cannot wait to read the new book, and yet I dread it. The fact that it's the last one is kinda depressing. Even though she's writing a new series, the characters will be different, and I like these ones... Ignore my ramblings. I tend to go off on them. I do hope this story will continue going the way I want it too. Anyway… Enjoy, and please review._

**Prologue: Good Times Gone**

"He can't go with you, you know."

The moment Clary heard Magnus' voice come from behind her she jumped in the air.

She had been flipping through the ancient book that contained the even older runes that would send her back to where she needed to go. Magnus had approached as stealthily as a cat, much like the thing he looked like.

"He can't," the warlock repeated.

Clary looked at him, her heart falling. "Why?" she whispered brokenly. Why did she have to lose Simon? He was her last link to her life. Her last hope. He had been her best friend even before all the terror and craziness that had interrupted their lives, and now he was the only one she had left after the war and the fighting had ripped everyone, new friends and family from her life.

"He is a vampire," Magnus said. "Runes only work on Shadowhunters, you know that. Not to mention that, while great and powerful, my magic is not so all-encompassing that I can send people into the past without the aid of a lot of runes."

She allowed the book to shut, her hands shaking. "Then maybe we'd best just get this over," she whispered. "I can't stay here any longer."

"Is our company that deplorable that you can't stand being in our presence anymore?" a dry voice commented from the doorway.

Clary turned, teary-eyed, to look at her best friend. "You can't come with me," she told him softly.

He waved his hand at her. "I know," he said. "I've kind of resigned myself to that fact already. A vampire isn't as easy to send back in time as a Shadowhunter is."

"Neither are a particular walk in the park," Magnus told them both. "Now, if you're sure you're ready, then open that book up again, and find the damn runes."

Clary opened the book and flipped through it. It hadn't been opened in centuries until they had found it three weeks ago. It had the runes that, along with Magnus' magic, would send her back to the time that would allow her to fix everything. The war, the fighting, the loss, the destruction.

She had taken the liberty of counting the days it took for her life to go from, lacking and yet perfect, to a living hell.

Three years. It had taken three years for everything to tumble down around her. Every freaking hour had brought more pain. From that night in Pandemonium to this very day. Three freaking years.

She, Simon, and Magnus and were the only ones left. A Vampire, a Warlock and a Shadowhunter. They were the only ones left. The only light forces left to fight the darkness that was being led by her father.

Her father the asshole.

She shook her head. This was her chance to save everyone. Jace, Izzy, Alec, Mayrse, Robert, Max, Luke, Maia, her mom, the entire Shadowhunter race, Luke's Pack, Raphael's coven, ninety-five percent of the Downworlder race. She could get them all back.

And she would.

"Here it is," Clary told Magnus. She pointed the runes out to him. There were no words, only runes, and an image of where to place them. That was why Simon and Magnus didn't know what they meant.

"All right," he replied. "You two say your goodbyes while I go grab my notes." He waved his hand at Simon and left the room.

Simon walked over to her and with no qualms wrapped his strong arms around her. "I'm gonna miss you," he told her softly.

Clary began to cry softly. "You too."

Simon chuckled. He hadn't aged in over three years, but he seemed so much older than her right then. "You're going to go back and see me. The human me," he reminded her.

"I know," she cried softly. "But it won't be _you." _

"Yes it will," he tightened his arms. "I haven't changed that much."

"Yes you have," Clary contradicted. "We both have. We aren't innocent anymore."

Simon looked down at her. "We really never were." He pulled away from the hug.

"Yes we were. At least," She pulled him back, "more so than we are now."

He shook his head, and this time cradled hers in his hands. "Look who you're leaving me with. Magnus the wacko," he laughed.

"I'm sorry." Tears were coming thick and fast now. She couldn't contain them anymore. "I don't mean to make things difficult for you."

Simon pressed his lips to her forehead. "Don't worry about it," he told her, kissing her forehead again. "Keep yourself safe, all right.

Clary nodded, burying her face into his shoulder. "I don't want to do this alone, Simon. I need you."

He chuckled softly, his breath hot in her hair. "I know and I need you too but we're gonna have to do these things alone. Our destinations takes us on two separate paths now." He kissed the top of her head again, but left his face buried in her hair.

Clary sniffled sadly as she kept her head on his shoulder. "Simon… I- I can't do this." Where were all these doubts coming from? "I don't think I'm gonna be able to do this."

"You're Clary Fray," Simon laughed, his face still buried in her hair, "of course you'll be able to do it."

Suddenly a none-too-subtle coughing came from the doorway and Clary and Simon jumped apart as thought it had sent a shock through them both. "So sorry to interrupt this moment of sentimentality," Magnus drawled, "but I've just retrieved my notes and I believe we'd best get this show on the road."

"Is there something wrong?" Clary asked, frowning at the warlock.

"Unfortunately," Magnus replied. "I've been informed that your dear father may be planning something here."

Simon froze. "We'd best hurry then," he suggested. "This has to succeed. We have no other chance," he glanced at Clay and forced a grin, but it looked painful. "Help us Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're our only hope."

Clary was so anxious to get going, that she barely managed to grin in return. "Nice, Simon." She turned to Magnus. "How do we start?" she asked.

"The runes," the warlock replied after moment. "The runes come first."

"Okay." Clary reached up and her hand closed over the zipper, pulling it down and then letting the red sweatshirt fall from her shoulders, showing to both the men in the room that she was just wearing a black bra. Trying to ignore the stares she knew Simon was giving her, she gripped her stele, pulling it out of her pocket and closed her eyes. Remembering the images in the book, she began at the palm of her left hand, tracing the lines that formed black Marks onto her skin, up her arm, across her shoulder. She changed hands halfway across her collarbone, and began descending down her right arm and to her palm. _Must be ambidextrous, _she thought distantly. Besides that errant thought, her mind had remained only on the runes she was drawing and what she hoped to accomplish.

Magnus began chanting the moment she stopped. His words were unintelligible, but Clary let them wash over her, knowing only to what aims they were being said for. She caught Simon's eyes and her best friend, the vampire, smiled at her. _'It'll be okay,' _he mouthed, careful not to interrupt Magnus. _'This will all work out.' _

Clary recognized the words Magnus had recited, and knowing it was the nearing the end, took a deep breath of anticipation. Her breath left her almost immediately in a gasp of horror as the wall behind Simon exploded, accentuating the end of Magnus' chants. All she was Valentine's face before her world exploded into bright lights. Painful lights. A tunnel of them. Every moment, every second accented with harsh pain. Desperately she thought, _What had gone wrong? _And then she surrendered to the pain.

**End of Prologue: Good Times Gone**

_A/N: Man, I hate first chapters/prologues. They're so painful to write. I do hope **someone **likes this. I will continue to write either way. Please Review! I do so love feedback. _

_~Ambiguous Rose_


	2. Woke Up This Morning

_A/N: Hello again. I'm really glad to have gotten all the positive feedback that I did. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. It really made me happy to see that it caught people's attention. It'll be a little bit before I update again. Another friend's borrowing my copy of City of Bones and I'll need to refer to it a lot. Here's a decent sized chapter though. I hope it's enjoyed. (Forgive any grammatical mistakes. I tend to notice them __**after **__I post.) _

_Disclaimer: I don't know how I managed to forget this in the Prologue. I do not own __The Mortal Instruments. Nor do I own the story's title, which is a song by Evanescence, and the prologue's title (which has changed) and chapter one's title are both songs by Nickelback. _

**Chapter One: Woke Up This Morning**

The bright, painful lights slowly faded into blackness. For a minute, Clary remained still, taking in her surroundings without opening her eyes. She was "asleep", lying under a light sheet. She felt smaller than usual and she realized she was lacking any newly gained, well-toned muscles. The darkness in front of her eyes slowly turned to brightness.

She yawned and pretended to wake up, stretching her arms behind her head, until they collided with something. Her eyes opened immediately, but painfully, as though they had been sewed shut. She took in her surroundings and was struck by their familiarity: blue sky above here, puffy clouds, cubby angels, and gilded ribbons. There was a deep-set stiffness in her bones, as though she had just been in some kind of fight, and distantly she knew why it was there.

"So you're finally awake," drawled a familiar, dry voice. "Hodge will be so pleased. _We _all thought you'd probably die in your sleep."

Clary turned to face Isabelle who was seated daintily on the bed next to her. It clicked. "I'm at the Institute, aren't I?" she asked. Nostalgia filtered through her being. She hadn't lived here like Jace, Isabelle and Alec, but she began to feel as though the Institute was a home away from home. Just like Idris was for most Shadowhunters. She had never felt that way about the Sadowhunter's country, but she had for the Institute. Everyone had suffered shock and horror at its destruction. At the lives it had taken- _Don't think about that, Clary, _she told herself, forcing herself not to tear up.

She watched Isabelle roll her eyes. "Is there anything Jace _didn't _tell you?"

Clary didn't recall her and Jace's conversation from that night. She barely recalled anything prior to her waking. "This _is _the Institute, right?" she asked again. At least she knew _when _she was. It had worked. Pleasure ran through her person. The spell had worked! There was another chance! She could save them all.

The look Isabelle gave Clary almost burned her like actual fire. "Yes," she said curtly, clearly annoyed. "You're in the infirmary, not that you haven't figured that out already."

A sharp pain in her stomach made Clary gasp out. Desperately she strained to remember why this was happening.

Isabelle's annoyance became concerned alarm. "Are you okay?"

"My stomach," Clary replied distantly.

"Oh right. I almost forgot. Hodge said to give this to you when you woke up." Isabelle poured something into a cup and handed it to Clary, who took a sip of it without thinking. She remembered Isabelle's cooking being horrendous, but this was from Hodge, and distantly she knew that he was bad but this was before Hodge was bad… wasn't it? Her head had begun to hurt. She was so confused; everything was so conflicted in her memory. She had been friends with Izzy- they had gone shopping together, hadn't they- but right now Isabelle obviously detested her. She sighed heavily as Isabelle continued. "You haven't eaten anything in three days. That's probably why you feel sick."

Cautiously, Clary took a sip; it was rich and buttery. She didn't bother to ask what it was, but Isabelle seemed to give that information freely. "One of Hodge's concoctions," she told Clary. "They always work." She sighed, slipping back onto the bed beside Clary. "I'm Isabelle Lightwood, by the way," she introduced herself.

Clary almost had to turn her head aside; she was so worried she was going to start to cry. Everything in her head was so jumbled up. "Yeah, I know." _Oops…_

Isabelle's eyes became confused. "You do?" she asked.

"I heard it… at…" -for a minute she couldn't remember what the club was called- "Pandemonium. I think Jace might've said it."

Isabelle seemed to accept this answer, and Clary almost breathed a sigh of relief. "And you are?" Isabelle looked at her.

"Clarissa… Clary Fray," _Morganstern, _she thought, _but you still think that asshole's dead. Why can't he be? Our lives would be so much easier if Valentine really had died. _

Isabelle nodded, but seemed, in all truth not to care. Clary desperately tried to remember what else she had learned the original time around. "Jace brought me here, didn't he?" Just saying his name brought a slew of memories to the forefront of her mind.

"He said you killed a Ravener Demon." Isabelle looked like she believed that to be the most impossible thing in the world. "You got ichor and blood all over the entrance. Hodge was furious. Jace would have been grounded if my parents had been here." Isabelle turned away and began to walk towards the door.

"Hodge is your tutor, right?" _Of course he was- the traitor. _

"Yes." Isabelle had stopped in the doorway and put her back against the frame. She was giving Clary a calculating look again.

"Why don't you all live with your parents?" Clary asked, though she regretted her words immediately. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. You already know why._

"My parents are in Idris," Isabelle informed her abruptly, and curtly. She didn't mention Jace… at first. "Jace's parents are dead."

Clary's heart leapt into her throat- _Mom! _And then she remembered again, that Isabelle didn't know that his mom was her mom, and that Valentine- _the asshole- _was their father. _He could be dead… that would be good…_ "Oh…" Clary whispered. "I-uh… shouldn't have-"

"There are some clothes in the bathroom of mine that you can change into. Your clothing had demon poison all over it, so Jace burned them." Isabelle seemed annoyed again. Clary sighed used to this. Isabelle was bipolar sometimes. "I'd best go tell everyone that you're awake. Hodge will be so pleased," she repeated her early comment.

"Oh- alright… thanks." Clary wasn't really sure where to go from here. "I'll, uh, go change than."

"Don't go anywhere then," Isabelle told her curtly and then left the room, in a twirl, her black hair flowing behind her.

Clary had learned, after a few months, not to really be jealous of Isabelle. Isabelle was a leggy beauty, but several boys had told her, her heart fluttered thinking of one in particular, that she had a different kind of beauty. She sighed, and got up from the bed, stretching. Her clothing and appearance had changed entirely. Before, when she had been with Simon and Magnus, casting the spell and drawing the runes, she had been wearing her favorite pair or jeans: big and baggy- and not even her own- and her bra so that she had had easy access to her shoulder, collarbone and arms. The girl staring back at her from the mirror was different then she had been. The muscle, which she had gained slowly, over the last three years, was virtually gone. She also knew that she had grown a bit in three years, but she hadn't realized it had been so significant. She was so much shorter she had been. Her hair, which she had had Magnus cut for her two years before, was long again. Vibrant red curls fell to her shoulders and beyond them. Awed that she hadn't noticed its length earlier, she reached up her hand, and ran it through the part she had grown unused to. Her face was bruised slightly, which annoyed her for some reason.

The red shirt and jeans lying in the bathroom were recognizable as Isabelle's. Clary pulled her nightgown- she had forgotten how she'd gotten into it- and placed it on the sink. She pulled on Izzy's jeans and sighed. She rolled them up, and pulled on the red plunging neckline shirt. Gazing in the mirror at herself, she sighed. "Someday soon," she muttered. Slipping out of the room, she folded her nightgown up and placed it on the bed. She slipped on her sneakers, and, without heeding Isabelle's word, slipped out of the room. Clary began to walk the halls that were so familiar to her. She closed her eyes, slowly, as if falling asleep to dream, and ran her hand along the cold walls. Beautiful yet terrible music reached her ears. She didn't open her eyes, but let her feet carry her to where the music was coming from. When she reached it, she smiled when she saw Jace sitting on the bench, his fingers flying over the keys.

Clary felt chills settle over her, as she closed her eyes again.

***~**~***

_Clary sighed and sat down on Jace's bed. She had to position herself carefully though because she was worried about the horribly short skirt that she was wearing. Isabelle had a habit of picking almost sluty clothing for her to wear. Jace was standing with his back against the wall, and he seemed to be looking at everything but her. He was dressed for a party in black dress pants, and black button down dress shirt. It was amazing, she thought, how Jace could look like he was going to a party and at the same time a funeral, and still look good wearing it. Uncomfortable, as she tended to be around Jace recently, she struggled to find something to say. "Did you… uh… have a nice birthday?"_

_Jace's reply was curt and to the point. "Yes." His voice was brusque and annoyed. "Why are you in here Clarissa?" _

_Clary's head lifted up to try and look her brother in the eye. "What did I do now, Jonathan?" she demanded, attempting to match Jace's hard tone. She rarely called him by his full first name and it tasted wrong. _

"_I can't do this anymore, Clarissa," Jace turned his head aside, again looking everywhere but at her. "I need you to leave."_

_Clary stood up, and anger seemed to flood her veins. "Can't do _what _anymore, Jace?" she asked, walking towards him, her heels clicking loudly on the floor. "Can't do _what_?" _

_His face shot up and his beautiful eyes met her green ones. She swallowed the lump that rose in her throat. "I can't be your brother anymore, Clary. I don't think I can handle seeing you anymore. It's _too damn hard!"

_Clary took a step back, slightly frightened by his voice. "You don't get it, do you?" she whispered. "That's what I came here to tell you. I was gonna let you know that I- I can't- can't be your sister anymore. It's not enough and it's never been-" She didn't get a chance to say anything else because of his force he suddenly applied against her. He gripped her shoulders and spun her around so that her back collided painfully with the spot on the wall that his back had just accompanied. For a minute she thought that her back might bruise entirely. His hands gripped her shoulders so hard she feared that he'd break her bones. _

"_Shut up you idiot," Jace whispered. Before Clary could shout how unkind that was, Jace lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers in a heated, forceful kiss. _

_Clary didn't know how, but she had forgotten how his kisses had made her feel. She swore that her body had started on fire. Her blood rushed with it, and held it back with the thin walls of her veins. Her blood pounded through her, and her skin came alive. She felt every place that Jace touched her with amazing clarity. She reached up to entwine her hands in his beautiful golden hair. She sighed, and opened her mouth against his. He ignored the invitation; instead beginning to lay a trail of heated kisses along her jawbone and down her neck. His hands moved to push the sleeve of her shirt down so that he had access to her shoulder and collarbone. She tilted her head to the side so that he had better access, as a shiver went through her. "Jace…" his name was a whispered on her lips. _

"_No more," he began, his breathing broken as he continued to kiss her skin. "We are no longer allowed to be related." His lips moved amazingly against her skin. _

_Clary hisses softly as Jace's lips moved onto a sensitive area on her neck. "No more," she agreed. _

***~**~***

Clary must have made some kind of noise because the piano stopped. "Alec? Is that you?"

Her eyes opened abruptly. _Alec wishes,_ she thought, amused. "No, not Alec," she told him. "It's me, Clary." _Your f-ing sister. _

"Oh." Jace almost looked disappointed as he stood up. "Our own Sleeping Beauty. Who finally kissed you awake?"

_You, I wish. _"No one. I woke up on my own."

He eyed me strangely, and I had no idea why. "Was anyone with you when you did?"

"Yeah. Isabelle. Must've been getting her oh-so-positive thoughts." _I miss my friends. The people they're gonna turn into. Back now… they aren't the people I know. _

"Where'd she go?" Jace hadn't smiled at her attempted joke, which she sighed inwardly at.

"To get someone…" Clary paused for a minute, her mind going blank. "H-hodge! That was it. She went to get Hodge."

"She told you to stay put, didn't she?" Jace sighed.

Clary allowed herself to grin. "Yeah…"

"I should have told her about your habit of not doing what you're told." _Get used to it, Jace, _she thought amused. _I never do quite master that particular lesson. _He narrowed his eyes at her, taking in her clothing. "Are those Isabelle's clothes you're wearing?" he asked. "They look ridiculous on you."

She glared at him. "Thanks." _I- cut it out Clary- ­_she told herself angrily. _Cut it out. _"You _burned _my clothes. Remember?"

"Purely precautionary," he replied, almost allowing himself to grin. "Come on, I'll take you to Hodge."

**End Chapter One: Woke Up This Morning**

_A/N: There's chapter one. I hope it was okay. I personally enjoyed writing it. XD Thanks for reading._

**~Rose**


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